Tales of the First Era: Alessia

by Blackvvater

In the earliest days of recorded history, a half-elven Breton finds himself swept up in a war between the oppressive Ayleid Empire and their human slaves - a war that will determine the fate of Cyrod and the course of history for Tamriel.

26. Chapter 26: Ninendava

Chapter 26

Ninendava

"Again!" Farilel commanded, folding her arms over her chest as she slowly paced back and forth behind Tari. Her pupil stood in the center of the palace courtyard, trembling and panting with fatigue as she raised her hand and focused her energy into her palm. A thin bolt of lightning erupted from the center of her hand and struck a boulder placed in the middle of the courtyard, scoring it with yet another ashen scar, the latest of over fifteen such marks on the stone.

"Good. Next, flame," Farilel ordered without giving Tari a chance to pause. Tari nodded weakly, taking a deep, shuddering breath, and then she closed her eyes to focus her energy. However, the blaze that erupted from her fingers washed over the stone for only a moment before sputtering out. Farilel watched her pitilessly as she struggled to keep her hand up, before dropping to one knee. "Rise," Farilel added curtly.

"Y-yes…." Tari muttered, but as she tried to stand, her legs gave out, and she fell to the ground, gasping for air.

Telepe, who had been watching from a nearby stump, resisted the urge to push himself up and hurry over to her. The last time he'd tried, Farilel had nearly impaled him on a shard of ice before warning him that if he wished to observe, he must do so from the opposite end of the courtyard, and that he was not to interfere. Thus, he reluctantly remained seated on the cold wood, anxiously watching as Tari struggled to rise to her feet.

Farilel observed her coldly for several long seconds, but when it became apparent that she wasn't able to move, she nodded. "Very well, let's stop for now." She then jogged over and knelt down, lifting Tari's head up and peering into her eyes. When she seemed satisfied, she pulled her cloak off and gently set Tari's head down on the soft, bundled cloth, allowing her time to rest and catch her breath. Tari's heaving shoulders gradually slowed as Farilel smiled down at her. "Well done!" the Ayleid woman added in a soft voice, her previously cold demeanor evaporating entirely. "Your stamina has greatly improved."

"Th… thank you," Tari whispered weakly as Telepe rose from the stump and walked over to the two women. He hesitated as Farilel glanced at him, but the elf simply smiled and nodded, inviting him to come closer. "I'm… simply pleased… I'm finally… showing progress," Tari added.

"Your progress is remarkable, though this seems a rather severe training method," Telepe remarked, carefully keeping his tone curious rather than disapproving.

"Indeed. But it's necessary," Farilel replied, looking up at Telepe as the girl closed her eyes to focus on regaining her breath. "I'd prefer to train Tari more gently, but with enemies lurking on all sides, we simply haven't the time. She wishes to quickly master battle magic, and while I'm happy to oblige her, this is the only method that shall enable her to do so in such a short amount of time."

"I see," Telepe said slowly. "Did you happen to teach her silent casting, by the by?"

"I did not," Farilel replied coolly. "Nor shall I. While it's an intriguing skill, I find it to be a simple novelty, with little practical application." When Telepe frowned in mild annoyance, she added, "However, there is merit in not allowing an opponent the opportunity to react to one's spells by listening to the incantation. Thus, I suggested that she simply speak her spells quietly enough that others cannot overhear, rather than shouting them as she's done in the past."

"Which is wise," Telepe replied simply, keeping his thoughts about her assessment of silent casting to himself. He glanced down at Tari, who had managed to prop herself up on her elbows, and added, "Are you going to be alright in the meantime?"

"I must be," Tari replied weakly, managing a slight grin. "After all, I must soon teach other mages myself, yes?"

Before Telepe could respond, a shout came from the sentry stationed atop the front gates of the city. "Rider approaching! It appears to be Whitestrake!"

All three exchanged looks, and then Tari began clambering to her feet. Telepe held a hand out to her, which the girl accepted with a smile, allowing him to pull her up. She then leaned heavily into to his side, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they made their way to the gate, which was already being pulled open for the rider.

The familiar white and silver figure of Pelinal charged into the city just as the trio exited the palace. Edanu emerged from within a few moments later, giving the trio a brief nod and motioning for them to accompany him. Pelinal cantered his horse through the streets of Sancre Tor towards them, brushing past pedestrians on the street, who clambered to get out of his way as he recklessly hurried down the center of the street.

"Whitestrake!" Edanu called out when the knight was close enough for them to speak comfortably. "I'm pleased that you've returned unharmed."

"As though the Ayleids could do me any harm," Pelinal scoffed, hoisting himself off of his horse and handing the reins to one of the palace stableboys. "I have information to share. Come," he added, sweeping his arm towards the palace, indicating that they should follow him. Without waiting for a response, he began quickly climbing the stairs, leaving the others to scramble after him.

As they passed through the double doors leading into the throne room, Telepe noticed Dynar sitting comfortably on a wooden bench, reading a scroll. He glanced up as Whitestrake strode past and nodded, at which point the knight glanced at him. "You. Come," he stated shortly before continuing his march through the halls. Dynar blinked and shot Telepe a questioning look, but Telepe could only shrug. Dynar quirked his mouth and rolled up the scroll, falling into step with the rest of the group as they followed the knight.

"Wine!" Pelinal barked as he led them into one of the back meeting rooms and took a seat at the head of the table, tugging off his helmet as he did and setting it on the table before him. The others slid uncomfortably into the other seats, glancing at each other as a girl approached Pelinal with a goblet and decanter of wine. Pelinal ignored the cup and instead took the decanter, pouring the dry red wine directly down his throat for several long seconds. When he finally finished, he let out a sigh of relief and rapidly shook his head. "By Aka, that's long overdue," he exhaled.

"Welcome back, Whitestrake," Edanu stated diplomatically, though his terse tone belied his growing impatience. "You said you had information?"

"Indeed," Pelinal nodded, setting down the clay decanter and leaning forward on his elbows. "I rode as far as Sercen to investigate that ray of light we observed a few days ago. It is being emitted from the center of Sercen – which, by the by, seems to have been sacked since we last departed. There were signs of a violent battle, such as black scars upon the walls and bits of rubble on the ground outside the city. In any case, the ray appears to be connected somehow to the light hovering above the White-Gold City. What's far more concerning, however, is that the island the city rests upon has been completely surrounded by a… curtain, a veil, of rainbow-colored light."

Telepe frowned at Tari, who shook her head with a helpless shrug, looking equally baffled. "Could you… elaborate?" Edanu asked hesitantly.

"I cannot, for I cannot fathom its nature," Pelinal shrugged, pausing to take another swig of wine. "However, given its appearance, I suspect that it is somehow connected to Meridia. More than that, I cannot say, as I did not venture near enough to the White-Gold City to properly investigate. I did promise to return shortly, after all."

Edanu nodded slowly and sat back in his chair, lacing his fingers together and resting his hands thoughtfully against his lips. Telepe glanced at the others around the table and noticed that Dynar was looking particularly uncomfortable at the suggestion that his goddess might be involved, though he remained silent. After a few moments of contemplation, Edanu turned to Farilel. "You're the most experienced mage we have. Might you have a thought as to what this is?"

Farilel grimaced uncomfortably, folding her hands on her lap. "Unfortunately, I cannot be certain. Based upon what Pelinal said, this phenomenon does appear to be magical in origin, and I concur with his assessment that it is likely the work of Meridia. However, I cannot recall anything like this occurring before, so I cannot tell you more. My apologies."

Edanu let out a slow sigh, lowering his hands from his lips and rising from his chair. As he began to pace with his arms folded over his chest, he said slowly, "The Paravant did not give us any orders beyond capturing Sancre Tor and contacting the Nords with an offer of an alliance. Have you received a reply from them?" he added, glancing over at Telepe.

"Not yet," Telepe replied. "From anyone, in fact."

"I see. In that case, since this veil may be dangerous, and since I suspect the bulk of the Paravant's army is still preoccupied with capturing eastern Cyrod, I propose that we act on our own initiative," Edanu announced. He stopped pacing and turned to face the group before him. "Our first priority should be obtaining more information about this curtain of light. Do we have any suggestions?"

There was a brief silence, and then Dynar spoke up, looking uncomfortable. "Well… if you wish to obtain forbidden knowledge, there is a repository nearby. However… I am loath to suggest that we make use of it."

Telepe's eyes widened as he realized what Dynar was suggesting, a shiver running through his body. "Are you proposing that we approach King Gordhaur in Ninendava?" he asked slowly. When the eyes of the others at the table turned to him, he added, "I thought that we had agreed to avoid that city if at all possible."

"If we wish to obtain magical information, I suspect that Gordhaur the Shaper shall be our best options," Dynar replied, though Telepe noticed that the Ayleid wasn't meeting his gaze, indicating that he didn't like the idea either. "He likely knows more of forbidden magicks than any other mer in Cyrod. Not to mention, his kingdom is very close, and he has already extended an invitation for you to meet with him. I suggest that we accept the offer."

Telepe exhaled slowly, sitting back in his chair and running his hand over his chin. Every eye was on him as he silently considered Dynar's proposal. "If we do approach him with a request for aid, we should preempt it with a gift," he said finally. "The question is, what might he want?"

Telepe glanced between Dynar and Farilel, silently asking if either of them had any ideas. Farilel sighed softly, looking up at the ceiling, and then replied slowly, "Since he is a renowned mage, I suspect that he would never turn down an offer of more artifacts. We can offer him beads, Welkynd and Varla Stones, and perhaps a few scrolls. Magical scrolls are quite rare, since few know how to properly enchant them. Fortunately, we have a master enchantress here in Sancre Tor."

"You believe Sariel can create scrolls?" Telepe asked, tilting his head.

"We can ask. We might also present him with an enchanted weapon," Farilel added. "In truth… I am uncertain if this offering is equal to the knowledge we are requesting, but at the very least, we are not simply approaching the gates of his kingdom and demanding that he tell us what we wish to know."

"Hm… very well," Edanu said slowly, pushing himself up. "Will you require an armed escort? While Ninendava is quite near, the paths may still be dangerous."

"No… I think only a small group would be best. We wish to make it clear that we are simply requesting an audience, not threatening his kingdom," Telepe replied, pushing himself up as well. "To that end, Prince Dynar, would you accompany me? An Ayleid presence would help reinforce our assertion of peaceful intentions, and you could vouch for us if he asks."

"Certainly," Dynar nodded, smiling faintly. "In truth, I intended to ask if I could accompany you anyways. I too would like to know if Lady Meridia is involved, and if so, how."

Telepe nodded once, then turned to Tari and Farilel. "I would also like to ask you two to accompany us as well, since you know far more of magic than either of us. If this veil is magical in nature, I would like to have your expert opinions."

"As you wish," Farilel agreed, while Tari smiled warmly up at him and nodded. Telepe then took a deep breath and turned to Pelinal.

"And… Whitestrake, I beseech you. Would you also join us?" Telepe asked slowly, his throat tightening to the point that he could barely get the words out.

Pelinal slowly raised an eyebrow incredulously at Telepe. "Truly?" he asked incredulously.

"Is it so difficult to believe your presence would be appreciated?" Telepe asked coldly.

"From you, yes," Pelinal scoffed. "Are you not concerned that I might disrupt your precious negotiations?"

"To be blunt? Yes," Telepe replied shortly. Pelinal narrowed his eyes as Telepe added, "However, I do not trust King Gordhaur. He is… unnerving, to say the least, and while we are not approaching him with hostile intent, I fear that he might not hold to the conventions of diplomacy. Since we must limit ourselves to only a small group, I would trust no other with our security."

Pelinal stared at Telepe silently for several long moments before shaking his head in disbelief. "Ah, very well," he sighed. "I suppose that the Paravant would be displeased if I allowed her emissary to remain unguarded, and you did ask rather humbly. I shall accompany you."

Telepe nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. "Thank you," he said shortly. "Then let us take some time to prepare. We shall meet again in front of the palace at noon."

"In the meantime, I shall remain here and await your return," Edanu stated as the others pushed themselves up. He considered Telepe quietly for a moment, then added, "Do be careful."

"More than I ever have been," Telepe murmured grimly as he headed back to his room to change into his formal clothing.

---

The small party traveled in silence along the narrow mountain path leading away from Sancre Tor. The sounds of the wind whistling off the peaks and the horses' hooves clattering on the stone path seemed to echo deafeningly in Telepe's ears. Pelinal rode at the head of the group, serving as a vanguard against any threats they might encounter. Telepe and Dynar rode side-by-side behind him, with Telepe clad in his formal grey tunic and clan cloak, while Dynar was once again wearing his polished bronze armor. Both were armed for the first time in days, their swords hanging loosely off their hips. Farilel brought up the rear, a thick wool robe covering her body, with a hood protecting her short blond hair and pointed ears from the cold.

Tari was perched on Emero's back behind Telepe, bundled in thick furs and clinging tightly to him. He could feel her small body trembling as the frigid wind washed over her, her fingers buried deep in the warm wool of his cloak. Telepe had offered to let her ride in front of him, but she insisted that she was content to sit behind him. He suspected that it was because the wind was blowing in his face, and she intended to use him as a shield against the worst of it, though he kept that thought to himself.

Ninendava was only a short distance from Sancre Tor, and although the narrow trail was rocky and treacherous, they were able to complete their journey in just over an hour. As they turned down the branch path leading to Ninendava, Telepe noticed several shaggy white goats milling about on the sloping cliffs. The beasts seemed unusually intelligent, eyeing the interlopers warily as they approached the city.

Even by the standards of the Ayleid city-states, Ninendava was very small. While Telepe knew that there were a few outlying farms that paid tribute to the city in exchange for protection, the city itself seemed to consist of only a few dozen small houses, scattered haphazardly along the side of the mountain. Surprisingly, there was no wall surrounding the houses, though since they were on a steep slope, Telepe doubted that a wall would have offered much protection anyways.

As the group crossed the threshold of the city, the inhabitants watched them cautiously, though they made no move to challenge them. In fact, Telepe noticed that man and mer alike showed signs of acute exhaustion… or perhaps despair, he realized, as he reconsidered their demeanor. Man and mer alike shambled aimlessly between the houses, their heads down and their shoulders slumped. Telepe couldn't help but wonder what had made them so despondent, though he was grateful that they didn't face any resistance as they ascended the steep slope towards the entrance to Ninendava's central sanctum.

Unlike most other kingdoms, which were dominated by an above-ground palace, the citadel of Ninendava was instead built almost entirely into the face of a steep mountain. A large, semi-circular wall surrounded the entrance to the underground sanctum, in the center of which was an archway with a pair of heavy bronze doors. A quartet of Ayleid warriors wearing thick furs over their bronze armor gazed down at the interlopers silently, clearly waiting for them to announce themselves.

"Hail!" Telepe called out brightly, dismounting and raising a hand in greeting. The warriors continued to stare at him wordlessly, and after an awkward moment, he continued, "I am Atkynd, an emissary from the Kingdom of the Bjoulsae. I have come to answer a summons from King Gordhaur of Ninendava, who extended an invitation to meet with him during the Sanguinalia celebration some months ago."

The warriors traded weary glances with each other, a mixture of disbelief and – to Telepe's growing concern – apathy at his statement. One of the guards lethargically turned to him and responded, "I am certain the king is too busy to answer your request at this time."

"I see. When would he next be available?" Telepe asked slowly.

"We cannot be certain, for the king's schedule is subject to his whims," the soldier replied with a shrug.

Telepe narrowed his eyes. "If that's the case, then you have my assurance that he shall wish to speak with us. If he does not recall our meeting, kindly remind him that the trade contract I wish to discuss with him would provide him with a number of resources that he professed interest in," he said in a short, impatient tone.

The warriors traded hesitant glances, and after considering them for a moment, a suspicion began gnawing at the back of Telepe's mind. Perhaps the warriors didn't wish to fetch Gordhaur because they were actively trying to avoid interacting with him. "Are… you certain you wish to speak with him?" another warrior asked cautiously. "If we request his presence, and he is not amenable to being disturbed…."

"You may inform him that I shall assume full responsibility for the interruption, and that his ire may be directed at me," Telepe replied soothingly. "Now, if you would? The day is not growing any warmer."

The warriors traded uneasy looks, then gathered together and furiously whispered to each other. Finally one of the elves reluctantly trudged down from the walls to retrieve the king, while his companions watched him with a combination of pity and relief. Telepe and the others waited uncomfortably in the cold for several long moments, until suddenly, the guards turned to look at something behind them, and moments later, the front gates of the city were flung open.

Standing in the gateway was the hunched figure of King Gordhaur. The mer was dressed much as Telepe remembered him – a fur-trimmed, purple robe hanging loosely off his shoulders, his stringy, silver hair braided with magical beads and feathers. Telepe did notice that his pallid bronze skin seemed even paler than he remembered, though his watery blue eyes still made Telepe involuntarily shiver as they raked over him, making him feel as though he was being studied rather than gazed at. A slow smile spread across the ancient Ayleid's lips, and he slowly shuffled forward, leaning heavily on a long staff made of dark wood, capped with a glowing Welkynd stone, and decorated with a quintet of feathers fastened to the staff by thin strips of leather, and adorned with shimmering glass beads.

"Well now. I was wondering if our paths would ever cross again. I confess, I had nearly forgotten about you, emissary from Malabal," Gordhaur commented, stepping through the gates of the city to peer into Telepe's face as a slight smile spread across his lips. "Nevertheless, I am pleased to see you again, my boy. How fare you?"

"Well enough, Your Majesty. It's good to see you as well," Telepe replied, managing a smile as he lowered his head in a bow. "Forgive our intrusion."

"Yes… I was rather wondering about that," Gordhaur remarked, his smile fading slightly. "I did not expect you to be accompanied by an entourage."

"You understand, of course, how dangerous the roads in Cyrod are," Telepe replied easily. "I felt it wise to bring some companions with me on my travels."

"Indeed. What strange companions, though," Gordhaur said, frowning as his eyes raked over Pelinal's silver armor before lingering on the two Ayleids accompanying him, and then turning to Tari, who was half-hidden behind Farilel. A moment later, however, the king shrugged and added, "No matter. There's room enough in my kingdom to accommodate all of you. Come!" he added, turning on his heel to lead them into the city.

Out of the corner of his eye, Telepe noticed Dynar and Farilel shooting each other wary looks as he followed Gordhaur through the gate. The entrance to his underground lair was flanked by two more spear-wielding guards, who stepped aside as the king approached. A wide path paved with shimmering marble flagstones led up to the heavy marble doors. Above the entrance loomed a statue consisting of the upper half an elven warrior clutching a longsword in both hands and raising it high above his head. The decoration seemed a strange choice for a king so focused on the study of magic, though Telepe supposed that it might have been commissioned by a previous king, and Gorhaur had seen no reason to replace it.

The guards opened the doors to the citadel and stepped aside for the king. As they passed by, out of the corner of his eye, Telepe thought he saw the guards shoot them apprehensive looks, though neither said anything, and Gordhaur didn't seem to notice. Once they were inside, the doors closed heavily behind them, though to his relief, Telepe didn't hear them being locked or barred.

"Tell me, emissary," Gordhaur said suddenly as he began leading them up a marble staircase, his voice echoing off the hollow walls. "Has there been any word from your king about whether a trade deal is possible between our lands?"

"Unfortunately, I have not yet received his reply," Telepe replied truthfully, deciding not to mention that he had only sent the message a few days ago. "However, I am certain that he will be thrilled at the prospect of trading with a kingdom as near to his border as possible. You may well be the first king he treats with, granting you first choice of any of his goods."

"Excellent," Gordhaur nodded, turning to grin over his shoulders. "In truth, while your offer of tin is quite useful, I'm more intrigued about the native flora of Malabal. I look forward to uncovering their magical properties."

"Indeed? My apologies. If I'd known, I would have asked my king to include a list of recipes that you might find useful," Telepe said quickly.

"That's thoughtful of you, but unnecessary," Gordhaur replied, waving him off as they finished ascending the staircase. "It would rob me of the thrill of discovery. What fun is a riddle if another tells you the answer?"

"As you say," Telepe bowed. Gordhaur nodded, and Telepe lifted his head once more, gazing around as they walked. After they had finished climbing the stairs, they began heading down a long marble hallway. Looking up, Telepe noticed an opening in the ceiling that allowed a circle of natural light to filter into the hallway, illuminating the decorations on the wall. To Telepe's surprise, rather than the tapestries he had grown accustomed to seeing in Ayleid palaces, large slabs of slate had been hung on both walls. Elven runes, written in chalk, were scribbled so haphazardly across their surface that one could have mistaken them for graffiti. Gordhaur glanced over his shoulder and notice Telepe staring, at which point he let out a soft chuckle.

"Ah, those. I find them convenient for when I'm struck with inspiration. Ink is far too permanent for my liking, and chalk markings are easily removed, so if I commit an error, it is a simple matter to erase the mistake and continue. This way, I do not deplete my stores of ink and papyrus, which as you know, are quite dear."

"How ingenious," Telepe flattered him, smiling warmly. "Slate and chalk might be a clever way to teach others as well, come to think of it. It would afford them far more mistakes, and it's not as expensive as wax, which we use in Malabal." He then chuckled and added, "Should I have sent my king a message adding chalk to the list of items you wish to procure?"

"Oh, you needn't trouble yourself," Gordhaur replied airily, leading them further down the hallway. The passage split off to the left and right, leading to small nooks where marble tables had been arranged in the center of the rooms. Tall shelves had been carved into the marble, and dozens of scrolls were packed into the deep holes. Telepe gazed into the right-hand nook and saw a pair of stooped Ayleids hunched over a scroll, a magical ball of light hovering over them to illuminate the text. He was struck by how pale they were, their skin almost a light grey color, much like Gordhaur's.

"Students of mine," Gordhaur explained when he noticed Telepe staring again. "They are diligent, though they are not my most promising pupils. Unfortunately, they lack the drive to become true experts of the craft. I do find it disappointing when I encounter a student who is unwilling to delve into the… deeper mysteries of magicka. Some simply do not have the constitution for it. Truly a pity, considering how many doors remain unopened, and how few have the courage to breach them."

"So would you call yourself the foremost expert on magicka in Cyrod?" Telepe asked slowly, testing to see if he could edge the conversation in the direction he wanted.

"I would not," Gordhaur replied firmly. "Though my knowledge outstrips many of my contemporaries, I am fully aware of my own limited understanding of magicka. That is why I still consider myself little more than an avid student, and I doubt I shall ever refer to myself as a 'master' of magicka, as some of my more… arrogant colleagues style themselves."

Gordhaur paused to motion for Telepe and the others to join him in the other alcove, taking a seat at the head of the small table. As Telepe moved to join him, he noticed the pale blue eyes of the Ayleids opposite them lingering on him. He felt a shudder run down his spine at their unblinking gaze, but he eased himself into the wooden chair regardless, the others doing the same. Gordhaur then snapped his fingers, and one of the apprentices hurried over to him. He whispered something to the young man, who bowed and quickly scurried off. Gordhaur smiled slightly and leaned forward on the table, lacing his fingers together as they did.

"Now… what do you want from me, emissary?" Gordhaur prompted.

Telepe blinked, caught by surprise at the king's blunt question. "I'm sorry?" he asked hesitantly.

"Come now, boy, do you think me a fool?" Gordhaur asked, his smile fading as his eyes narrowed in irritation. "You did not come here to simply discuss the status of your trade offer. If that was your intention, you could have easily sent a message via falcon, and you certainly would not be accompanied by traitorous rebels. Don't bother," he added, holding up a hand as the others started to push themselves up. Pelinal already had his mace off his belt before he paused. "If I'd wished to fight you, I would have had you stopped at the gates. You clearly came to parley, hence why I granted you access to my inner sanctum. I'm willing to hear you out. Is this perhaps about joining the slave rebellion?" he added, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his laced fingers. "I recall some of the local farmers mentioning that you were speaking on behalf of the rebellion, attempting to sway them with promises of protection and trade. If that is your purpose here, I shall decline. Much like the previous king of Sancre Tor, I have remained neutral in all conflicts, though unlike that fool of a merchant, I did so by choice. I have no interest in this war, so long as I am free to continue my studies in peace."

"Ah… rest assured, Your Majesty, we have every intention of respecting your desire to remain apart from the war," Telepe said quickly, having finally managed to find his voice after being caught off-guard by King Gordhaur's surprisingly keen perception. Telepe had made the mistake of thinking of him as little more than an absent-minded mage – Gordhaur's frank assessment had reminded him that he was treating with a king, and a very intelligent one at that. He needed to remain cautious. "In fact, it is your tireless pursuit of knowledge that is the purpose of our visit today. We were hoping you might be willing to enlighten us about a recent development."

"Indeed?" Gordhaur asked absently, pausing to look up as the servant returned, carrying a decanter of wine and several goblets, which he began placing in front of the occupants of the table. "Go on," the king prompted him.

Before Telepe could continue, the novice placed one of the cups in front of Telepe and began pouring a thick red wine. As he leaned down, Telepe noticed that his eyes seemed glazed, unfocused, and he didn't meet Telepe's gaze as he poured the drink. It was yet another brief but unsettling moment that made goosebumps rise on Telepe's arms.

Telepe quickly looked away, returning his gaze to the king. "Are you aware of the curtain of light that now surrounds the White-Gold City?" he asked bluntly.

Gordhaur's eyes widened briefly, a slow, understanding smile spreading across his lips. "Ah, is that why you're here?" he asked, taking his goblet and raising it to his lips. "You wish to divine its nature, is that it?"

"Indeed," Telepe replied, holding his cup in his right hand, though he didn't lift it off the table. "We were hoping you might be able to assist us."

"I see," Gordhaur said, nodding as he set his goblet down again before sitting back in his chair, resting his steepled fingers on his stomach. "Yes, I could certainly assist you in this endeavor. In truth, I do not understand its nature myself, though I know of one who might. However, such knowledge is not something I would willingly part with unless I was provided restitution. After all, you are requesting a service of me, and such a transaction must be met with equal payment, wouldn't you agree?"

"Absolutely," Telepe replied smoothly, having anticipated this response. "Therefore, if you would permit us, we are willing to provide you with a number of magical items that may suit your fancy. For instance, the smith of Sancre Tor has recently enchanted these beads-"

"Enchanted beads?" Gordhaur echoed, his easy smile fading once again. "How dreadfully common."

"I… my apologies, Your Majesty, but I was under the impression that beads served as a local form of currency?" Telepe asked hesitantly.

"They do. Unfortunately, I have no use for them," Gordhaur replied, waving him off. "They have little use in my research."

"I… I see," Telepe stammered slowly. "Well… we also have a number of Welkynd and Varla Stones-"

"Better, but not what I'm seeking," Gordhaur interrupted. "Or rather, the value of what you are offering is unequal to the knowledge you are requesting."

"Is that so?" Telepe asked, his stomach sinking. "Of course, we can provide as many as you wish."

"You misunderstand me," Gordhaur retorted. "I seek quality, not quantity. Regardless of how much gruel you feed someone, it shall never satisfy the palate the way a slice of seasoned, roasted meat would. Do you understand my meaning?"

Telepe hesitated, leaning forward slightly. "Then I suppose that enchanted weaponry holds no appeal for you either?"

"Unless it possesses a truly unique enchantment, no. I am an expert enchanter myself, so that holds little appeal. No, I wish for you to truly offer something that would pique my interest," Gordhaur answered.

Telepe slowly sat back in his chair, gripping his chin with his thumb and forefinger. Slowly, an idea began worming its way into his mind. The thought made his heart pound, but it might be their best opportunity to obtain the information they wanted. He looked up, catching Pelinal's eye, and when the knight frowned at him, he pointedly glanced over at Gordhaur. Pelinal's scowl deepened, not comprehending Telepe's tacit question, until he motioned to Pelinal's sword with his eyes before glancing at Gordhaur again. Pelinal's eyes suddenly widened with comprehension, and he bared his teeth in a feral grin, giving a very slight nod in reply. Telepe's heart began racing even faster as he turned back to Gordhaur.

"Well… I might have a prize that could interest you," Telepe said slowly, lowering his hand and resting his forearms on the table. "However… I wish to first offer you a challenge first, if you would permit me."

"Why would I permit that?" Gordhaur asked bluntly. "You came to me seeking knowledge, and it falls to you to offer suitable recompense."

"Indeed, but I thought that you would relish the opportunity to test the knowledge you've obtained," Telepe countered with a slight smile. "After all, what good is knowledge without practical application?"

Gordhaur hesitated, then tilted his head slightly. "For the sake of curiosity, very well. I shall hear you out."

Telepe nodded, managing a calm smile of his own, despite trying to ignore the sound of his heart hammering in his ears. "I propose that we settle this with a duel. Yourself against the champion of the Paravant, Pelinal Whitestrake," he explained, nodding to the knight across from him. "Should he prevail, you shall grant us the knowledge that we seek. Should you defeat him, you obtain a subject unlike any you have ever had the opportunity to study." He paused dramatically, then added, "Me."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tari's eyes widen, and then narrow at him angrily. Though she didn't say anything, he could practically feel her fury radiating from her small body. Across the table, Dynar also seemed startled, though he retained his composure. Slowly, he looked down, and then began nodding thoughtfully. Gordhaur, meanwhile, slowly raised an eyebrow.

"You believe that you would interest me?" he asked absently.

"You will not find a specimen like myself anywhere in Cyrod," Telepe explained coolly, steepling his fingers together in front of his mouth. "Even if there are other Manmer in the country, none possess the blood of the Altmer of Malabal, making me unique in this region. To study one like myself, you would need to travel to a distant land and find a way to obtain an unwilling subject. It's far more trouble than it's worth."

"Yet you expect me to fight for the opportunity to obtain you?" Gordhaur asked, though his tone was more amused than irritated.

"I do require the knowledge you claim to possess, and it does me little good if I'm in your service," Telepe pointed out. "Thus, a bit of a challenge where we both stand to either gain or lose everything seems appropriate." A slight smile spread across his face as he added, "What's more, what better application of your knowledge than against the finest warrior in Cyrod, save perhaps for Umaril Many-Feathers? What better triumph of knowledge and magicka than to prove the futility of brutish physical might in the face of raw magical power?"

Gordhaur looked away from Telepe, gazing at a spot on the table, while Telepe ignored the furious glares that Pelinal and Tari were both sending his way. After several long moments of silence, Gordhaur held his hand up to a passing novice, who quickly hurried over to the king. Gordhaur whispered something to him, at which point the apprentice's eyes widened, though he nodded and hurried off to carry out the king's command. Gordhaur sighed and put his hands on the armrests of the chair, pushing himself up and inclining his head.

"Very well," Gordhaur announced, his pale blue eyes dancing with amusement. "You would indeed make an interesting subject to study for a while, though what truly has me intrigued is this… confidence you have in your champion. You strike me as a very cautious individual, and I doubt you'd gamble so brazenly if you did not have absolute faith in your chances of victory. Let's see if your confidence is misplaced, shall we?"

The king motioned for the others to rise and follow him, with Pelinal smirking as he placed his helmet back on his head. Dynar glided over to Telepe and murmured in an amused tone, "You wouldn't gamble if you weren't certain of victory? Clearly, he's unaware of the sorts of risks you've taken in the past, Telepe."

Telepe grinned, though his smile faltered as Tari swept past him, glowering at him furiously as she tailed Pelinal out of the room. Farilel sighed as she brought up the rear, ushering the two males out of the room to follow after the king, who was already sweeping through the marble halls of his domain.

The group traveled down the hallway to an intersection splitting left and right. Gordhaur turned right, guiding them down two flights of stairs, with the air growing steadily cooler as they descended. Telepe pulled his cloak a bit tighter around himself as they passed a hooded figure shuffling past in a brown sackcloth robe. He almost gagged as he was assaulted with a sickly-sweet smell, as though the person had doused themself in a full urn of perfume to hide a stronger stench, but hadn't managed to mask it completely.

Gordhaur paused in front of a long hallway with deep grooves set in the walls. He held his hand up and walked over to a section of the wall, muttering under his breath. He walked back over a moment later, inclining his head. "Apologies. I placed a few… countermeasures down here to ensure that some of the more unruly subjects don't escape to cause themselves or others undue harm. You understand the precautions of course."

"Of course," Telepe agreed airily, trying not to consider the implications of Gordhaur's words… or wonder if he would be subjected to the same "precautions" should Pelinal lose their duel. He shuddered to himself as they walked past the grooves in the wall. Telepe couldn't help but peer into one of them, whereupon he noticed a glint of sharp, thin bronze, suggesting some sort of blade hidden in the wall. Shivering again, he hurried past the trap after their escort.

As they continued down the hallway, they passed two more reading alcoves similar to the ones they had seen on the upper level. Another apprentice was hunched in a corner, murmuring to themselves, their knees drawn up on one of the wooden chairs as they stared into a weathered scroll that was held so close to their face that Telepe couldn't see it. Their hood obscured their features, though they paused to peek around the papyrus at the intruders for a moment. Telepe flinched in surprise and fright as he thought he saw vivid scarlet scales dotting the cheek of the Ayleid student. A moment later, they had passed by the student, and Telepe was left wondering if he had just imagined what he had seen.

Gordhaur led them into an open, cavernous room populated by more of the figures wearing rough, sackcloth robes. All had their hoods up, making their features indiscernible. Some were seated on cold stone benches, staring blankly at the floor, while others staggered about the room, gazing up at the ceiling or swinging their heads about wildly. One of the figures approached Gordhaur, pale hands outstretched, but Gordhaur shushed the figure and leaned in close, whispering something. The figure seized up, then recoiled and staggered away, muttering to itself. Gordhaur simply smiled and motioned for the group to follow him. The others traded uncomfortable looks as the tension hanging in the air grew thicker, with only Pelinal striding after Gordhaur as though completely unfazed by the increasingly unsettling atmosphere.

At last, they passed through a door constructed of bronze wiring and emerged into a large room. In spite of all Telepe had seen thus far, the scene before him frightened him far more than anything else in Ninendava. Two apprentices stood in the far corners of the room, wearing dark blue robes, each with their hands tucked into their sleeves and bowing deeply before their king. In the center of the room, on a raised platform, was a long stone altar, each end of which was carved to resemble the face of a goat. On the surface of the altar was the corpse of a snowy-white mountain goat. Its throat was slit, and blood was seeping out of the fresh wound, staining the altar deep red, and trickling off the sides to pool on the marble floor. All of that, however, paled in comparison to what loomed beyond the platform.

Though the room was adequately illuminated by the cold but bright glow of white crystals hanging in a chandelier above them, an unnatural, ink-black shadow covered the final third of the room, which almost seemed to devour the light in the room. Within the shadow were a pair of bright yellow eyes, which gazed steadily at the group approaching it. As the eyes turned on Telepe, a cold fear consumed him. His breathing became shallow, and he struggled to remain standing, to not curl in on himself. The only other time he could recall being this frightened had been in the bowels of Morahame, when Mehrunes Dagon had threatened them. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the others – save Pelinal – were having similar reactions as the pair of eyes settled on them in turn. The figure's gaze finally, mercifully, turned towards Gordhaur, who slowly approached the being lurking in the shadows, seemingly unfazed by its piercing gaze.

Telepe could only faintly hear an indistinct whispering coming from Gordhaur, and then the figure seemed to nod, the yellow eyes bobbing once. Gordhaur smiled slightly and turned back to the group, spreading his arms out.

"Very well. It has been agreed," Gordhaur announced. "We shall duel – an audience with the one who has the knowledge you seek, or your service to me."

"V-very good," Telepe stammered, then cleared his throat and took a deep breath to steady himself. His blood again turned cold as the eyes in the shadows settled on him, but he tried to ignore them as he continued, "Then let us discuss the terms of the duel itself. If you wish-"

"This shall be a duel to the death, and we may use any weapon or skills we wish," Gordhaur announced, catching Telepe by surprise. His mouth hung open as he glanced over at Pelinal, who simply nodded in reply. Telepe cleared his throat again and stepped back.

"I see… then as you have no need for a judge, I shall simply announce when you may begin," Telepe stated. "When you both are ready?"

Gordhaur chuckled as he gripped his staff in both hands, while Pelinal unslung his shield from his back and drew his sword. The knight's choice of weaponry surprised Telepe slightly – Pelinal tended to eschew his shield unless he needed to defend someone else. Telepe's stomach turned as he realized Pelinal considered Gordhaur a dangerous opponent, if he felt the need to fight cautiously.

"Begin!" Telepe cried, then quickly stepped out of the way. Gordhaur immediately raised his staff, and a bolt of lightning erupted from the crystal. Pelinal quickly raised his red, diamond-shaped shield, catching the spell on its face. The bolt flickered around the edges of the shield and ran along Pelinal's armor, though the knight seemed unaffected. As the spell dissipated, he stepped in to slash at Gordhaur.

The sorcerer-king immediately leapt backwards with a spryness that belied his age, swaying backwards to avoid the first stroke of his sword. Pelinal pursued him, however, following up the attack with a second and then a third blow, each one narrowly missing Gordhaur's fluttering purple robes. Gordhaur raised his staff once more and unleashed another bolt of lightning, though Pelinal again caught it on the face of his shield. As it did, the bolt seemed to coalesce in the center of his shield, and then it reflected back to Gordhaur, catching the king in the torso.

Gordhaur was knocked backwards, tripping over the dais and grunting with pain as he clutched his chest. He scrambled backwards as Pelinal closed in on him, and before the knight could slash at him again, his arm extended outward, growing to about fifteen feet long, and grabbing the knight's ankle. Telepe let out a gasp of disbelief, as did Tari and Dynar. Pelinal glanced down in surprise as Gordhaur yanked his leg with a grunt. Though it didn't pull Pelinal's leg out from under him, he did stumble a bit, giving Gordhaur the time he needed to climb to his feet again.

"You've indeed been dabbling in foul magics, elf," Pelinal snarled as Gordhaur's arm retracted back to its normal length. Gordhaur, however, simply chuckled.

"There is a reason I am called 'Gordhaur the Shaper,' champion," the king responded coolly. "I have mastered the art of physical modification, the very magic we Ayleids invented. Allow me to show what a true student of transfiguration can accomplish."

Pelinal growled and swung his sword in a short arc over his head. Gordhaur raised his arm and caught the blade on his forearm, much to Telepe's shock. After a moment, he noticed that the elf's arm seemed to have been coated in a layer of stone. Telepe had little doubt that Pelinal could slice through the arm anyways, but the knight had not swung with his full weight behind the blow, leaving Gordhaur unharmed. Before he could draw his blade back, Gordhaur stepped in, his other hand slashing towards Pelinal. Five claws extended from the tips of his fingers, apparently dripping with a sickly green poison. Pelinal quickly stepped out of the way in time to avoid the mage's claw, which slashed the air harmlessly. Undeterred, Gordhaur instead held his palm out, and a crystalline fragment rose from the wall and streaked through the air at Pelinal's unprotected back. The shard struck him square in the spine, though it shattered harmlessly on impact, unable to penetrate Pelinal's armor. Nevertheless, it did make him stumble forward for a step with a soft grunt.

Growling with irritation, Pelinal charged forward and slashed at Gordhaur, but the mage jumped backwards once more, though this time, he didn't land on the ground. A pair of large, golden wings erupted out of his back and began flapping, lifting him into the air as Pelinal pursued him. The knight swiped at him impotently as Gordhaur laughed, raising his hand once again. More crystalline shards pelted the knight from all sides, though it seemed to have no effect on the knight, save for an occasional grunt of annoyance. Nevertheless, Gordhaur remained comfortably outside of the knight's range, taunting him as he continuously assaulted him without fear of retribution.

"Come now, champion, I was told that you were a warrior to be feared! You haven't landed a single blow!" Gordhaur crowed as he flew up to the ceiling and placed his hand on one of the heavy stone bricks. A purple light washed over the brick, and there came a deep rumbling and cracking sound. Suddenly, the brick fell from the ceiling, plummeting towards Pelinal, who growled and rolled out of the way. Fine white dust exploded where the brick struck the ground, and as the cloud settled, Telepe saw deep cracks running through the marble floor beneath the heavy stone.

"Shapechanging, levitation, weight manipulation…." Farliel whispered under her breath, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Never have I witnessed one who has mastered the art of physical alteration to such a degree."

"It is indeed awe-inspiring," Telepe murmured in agreement, not daring to take his eyes off the duel before them. "However… does it not seem as though he's still only barely keeping pace with Whitestrake?"

"You think so as well?" Tari asked. "I also noticed that he has not used his staff since Whitestrake turned his spell aside the first time, and he has not dared come within range of Whitestrake's blade. His attacks also seem to be an annoyance at best."

As if to confirm her observations, Pelinal tilted his head as another shard of crystal flew by him, letting out a sigh of irritation. "Come, how long do you intend to fly about like a gnat?" he demanded.

"I have no reason to fight you on your terms," Gordhaur scoffed. "You are bound to the earth, crawling about like vermin! I defy the laws of the world, reshape them to my whims! I shall not bow to the conventions of Nirn! Come, face me in my arena, in the sky, if you can! If you dare!"

Pelinal tilted his head up, letting out a brief, almost amused snort. "As you wish," he replied. He stepped back, then took a running leap, jumping off of the heavy stone brick on the ground. As he flew towards Gordhaur, the Ayleid easily glided out of the way, effortlessly avoiding Pelinal's leap. Pelinal, however, kicked off the nearby pillar just as Gordhaur turned to face him. Before the mage even had time to scream, Pelinal's blade sliced diagonally through his torso. His left arm and one of his golden wings fell to the earth in a pile of blood and feathers, and the mage's body soon followed, landing heavily on the ground with a sickening crunch before lying still in a crumpled heap.

Telepe stared at the unmoving body, mildly stunned, as Pelinal scoffed and flicked his blade to remove the blood. "How disappointing. All that power, yet unable to resist a single blow," he remarked gruffly, before turning to Telepe. "The duel is over, elf. Claim your prize if you wish."

"Thank you," Telepe said, inclining his head towards Pelinal before turning towards the figure lurking in the shadowy darkness. The chill he had felt before crept over him again as the figure's yellow eyes rested on him. He swallowed to steady his voice, then announced, "We have come seeking knowledge. Am I correct in assuming you possess what we seek?"

The figure stared at him steadily for a long moment, and then began speaking in a low, deep voice that seemed to reverberate through the room. It had a smooth, oily quality to it, and while the tone was almost conversational, there was a distinctly sinister undertone. "I do indeed possess the knowledge you desire," the figure admitted. "However, I shall not indulge you. At least not yet."

"…For what reason, if I may ask?" Telepe asked slowly, keeping his tone respectful.

"Why, because the duel is not yet over," the figure replied simply, as though it was obvious. "Behold," it added, gazing at a spot behind him.

The chill running down Telepe's spine grew colder as he slowly turned around to see Gordhaur rising from the ground. He lifted his severed arm from the ground and slid it inside the sleeve of his robes. A moment later, the fingers of his hand flexed, and he nodded in satisfaction before turning to Pelinal. "Now then… let us continue," the Ayleid smirked.

Telepe's eyes widened, and he dove out of the way as Pelinal snarled and charged towards the mage. Gordhaur's body distended out of the way of Pelinal's wild strike, and then his clawed hand once again extended from his arm and swiped at the knight. Pelinal's armor deflected Gordhaur's talons away without leaving so much as a scratch, but the mage pressed his hand to Pelinal's armor and muttered under his breath. A gout of flame exploded from the palm of his hand, briefly staggering Pelinal, though when the knight regained his balance, he seemed unharmed. Nevertheless, Gordhaur sneered as he slunk backwards, his hands outstretched and crackling with magicka as he dared Pelinal to come closer.

Rather than charging in, Pelinal raised his shield and plodded forward, staring at his foe over the rim. Wings once more erupted from Gordhaur's shoulder blades, and he cackled madly as he rose into the air to touch another brick. Pelinal raised his shield, readying himself for the brick to fall again, but Gordhaur instead pried the loose brick free and held it above his head as though it weighed nothing. He then flew towards Pelinal with a yell as another flash of purple washed over the stone. Before he could slam it down on Pelinal, however, the knight slipped beneath the mage and slashed horizontally.

The blade bisected Gordhaur at the waist, and the massive brick fell from his hands as his two halves hurtled through the air before colliding with the opposite wall. His body tumbled across the ground as Pelinal exhaled slowly. Then, as Telepe watched in horror, bloodred, fleshy tendrils slithered from the edges of both halves of his body and began knitting themselves back together as his upper and lower halves were once again conjoined.

"Whitestrake!" Tari cried. Telepe snapped his head over his shoulder to see her pointing at the dais. "The altar!"

Telepe's eyes widened as he saw that the altar was shimmering with a pulsing, dark green glow. Pelinal glanced at the altar, and then back to Gordhaur, who had just managed to climb to his feet once again. Before the king could do anything else, Pelinal grabbed him by the head and dragged him, screaming, up the dais, before putting him on his knees before the altar. Telepe winced as Pelinal repeatedly smashed the king's head against the cold granite, tiny flecks of blood and bone flying about. The knight then put his hand on the altar and whispered something unintelligible. The deep green glow of the altar became a bright, sickly green instead. As Gordhaur's face began reassembling itself, he let out a piercing shriek of pain. Boils began erupting on his skin, and his stringy hair began falling from his scalp.

"Desist, and the pain will end," Pelinal growled. "I've placed an ancient plague spell upon the altar. Each time you attempt to reform, you shall suffer more. The plague shall ravage your body until you are little more than an unrecognizable mass of putrescence. You have lost, Shaper. Go to your death while you still retain what's left of your dignity and sanity."

From his position off to the side, Telepe could see Gordhaur glaring furiously at Pelinal, his body shaking uncontrollably. He then abruptly slumped to the floor, like a puppet with its strings cut. Pelinal nudged the corpse with his toe, then nodded to Telepe.

"Clever," the figure in the shadows commented. "Few yet remain who still recall that spell. Though I suppose I should expect no less from one of the ada."

"Do not address me so familiarly, monster!" Pelinal snarled, pointing his blade at the shadowy figure. "You claimed to have the knowledge we require. Yield it."

"Yes… I did agree to that," the voice agreed affably. "However, while I shall divulge it, I must inform you that it comes at a price. For you see, I dislike meddling in the affairs of my kin – I typically strive to avoid the petty rivalries that some of them revel in. Nevertheless, I would be willing to share the information were I to gain some benefit in return."

"That was not the agreement!" Pelinal roared.

"My servant informed me that he agreed to introduce you to the one who has the knowledge you desire," the voice retorted. Though Telepe could only see its eyes, he could almost imagine the figure in the shadows smirking smugly. "We have been introduced. If you desire this information, however, I am willing to make a trade. You see, Gordhaur was a servant I was quite fond of, and it shall be difficult to replace him. I would, however, be willing to share what you wish to know with a new servant." The being's eyes turned towards Tari, adding, "You… you hold some promise. It was clever of you to divine the nature of the altar so swiftly, and you seem to possess some talent for magic. It is also rare for a Nede in these lands to pursue magic, and you seem quite hungry for knowledge. What say you, girl? I will happily share what I know with you, should you swear yourself to my service."

Telepe's eyes widened with horror and anger, but before he could open his mouth, Tari firmly replied, "I was recently freed from bondage, and I've found that I rather enjoy my freedom. I shall never swear servitude to another being again."

"You shall never have another opportunity like this to obtain the knowledge you seek," the being replied slowly.

"So long as the knowledge exists, so too does a way to uncover it," Tari replied defiantly. "If that is your offer, we have no need of it."

Telepe grinned at Tari as pride welled up inside of him, warming his chest. Pelinal also turned to nod at her over his shoulder in approval, and Farilel placed her hand on her shoulder with a warm smile while Dynar chuckled. The figure in the shadows, meanwhile, let out a low, amused laugh.

"Is that so? So be it," it said. "If you shall not accept my offer, then we have nothing further to discuss."

As Telepe gazed apprehensively at the figure in the shadows, a third yellow eye appeared in the center of the first two. His mouth fell open as a fourth appeared, then a fifth, and a sixth, all at different spots in the shadows. In moments, scores of eyes were glaring down at them, flickering in and out of existence like bubbles. Thick, slimy, green tentacles then emerged from the shadows, wriggling horrifically, as the deep voice turned menacing.

"Servants of Ninendava!" the creature bellowed. "Your king is slain! Shall you allow his death to go unavenged?!"

With an inhuman shriek, the two apprentices standing near the dais suddenly lunged at the small group. Telepe wasn't quick enough to draw his sword, but Farilel managed to raise her hand in time and utter a curse. A spear of ice slammed into the first apprentice's chest, knocking him prone, while Tari turned to the second. She whispered something under her breath, and a stream of lightning erupted from her fingertips and struck the second apprentice. He writhed and screamed as his hood fell from his face, reveling that it was horrifically twisted, with one oversized yellow eye in his left eye socket and two small tentacles hanging from his cheek. Before he could recover, Dynar drew his curved blade and slashed it across the kneeling mer's neck, ending his life.

The sound of footsteps behind them alerted Telepe to a crowd of sackcloth-robed figures shuffling towards them, their arms outstretched. Telepe realized, to his horror, that their robes had been hiding horrific disfigurations. Some had monstrous claws protruding from their fingers, while others had writhing tentacles, and still others seemed to suffer with rotting flesh.

Telepe finally managed to get his sword out of its sheath, and he dropped into a dueling stance as the first figure lunged towards him. He easily sidestepped the attack and thrusted forward, catching the figure in the chest. However, even with the blade protruding from their body, the robed figure continued clawing at Telepe with rotten fingers. Grimacing and feeling his stomach turn, Telepe kicked the figure off his blade, knocking off its hood to reveal a half-skeletal face with putrescent green skin hanging off its cheeks. Fighting the urge to empty his stomach, he slashed the figure across the throat, sending it to the floor, where it finally lay still.

A booming, cracking sound behind Telepe momentarily distracted him, and he glanced over his shoulder to see that Pelinal had drawn his mace and slammed it into the goat-faced altar, which had crumbled into a pile of dark grey rubble. He then turned to the writhing mass of eyes and tentacles above him and pointed his mace at it.

"Begone, Mora!" Pelinal roared. "No other mortals shall suffer your torment in these halls!"

"Perhaps not here," the voice – Mora, Telepe supposed – replied smoothly. "But there shall always be seekers of knowledge, dear ada, who shall come to me, praying for guidance. And while you may yet find what you seek through other means, the price you pay for it shall be far more dear than the deal I offered."

"It cannot be worse than submitting to be your thrall," Pelinal snarled.

"We shall see," Mora chuckled as its eyes and tentacles disappeared, and the shadows behind it dissipated. The lights in the room seemed to glow brighter in the absence of the oppressive darkness. Beyond where Mora had been hovering, Telepe could see an opulent room behind bronze wire doors, which he supposed were Gordhaur's chambers.

Pelinal noticed Telepe staring, and he jabbed his mace towards the exit. "Let us depart!" he shouted, before charging forward to help the others.

Telepe turned back around in time to see a slave with a feathered face and a beak where his mouth should be lunge at him with an avian shriek. He winced as the figure's talon-like hand raked at his left shoulder, opening a pair of gashes on his arm, which began dripping blood. Gritting his teeth, he stepped back a few feet, then lunged in with a quick thrust. The point of his blade pierced through the abomination's eye and buried itself in its brain. The figure slumped to the floor, twitching twice, before lying still. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat, then hurried to join his companions.

Tari was standing in the doorway to the next chamber, holding both hands out and whispering under her breath. Streams of flame erupted from her palms, washing over the crowd of monsters lurching towards them. The horrible beings shrieked and scrambled away as two apprentices hurried forward, their hands crackling with their own spells. Before they could unleash them, Farilel stepped in front of Tari, who quickly lowered her hands and slipped behind her. As a pair of icy spikes flew towards the Ayleid woman, she covered her body in a shimmering, magickal shield tinted light blue. The spikes exploded against her torso, dropping her to one knee, and though she grunted in pain, she didn't seem grievously injured. Dynar hurried past her before the mages could cast another spell, slashing one across the chest before turning to the other. Pelinal pushed past him just as the apprentice uttered another curse, smashing his mace across the young man's face and sending his lifeless body to the floor.

"Come!" Pelinal shouted, raising his shield as he charged towards the stairs, which were being blocked by three more of the twisted slaves. He mercilessly slammed his mace into their heads in one swipe, then stepped over their lifeless forms as the small group hurried after him. Their retreat was briefly halted when they reached the corridor containing the swinging bronze blades, which had been reactivated by an apprentice that was standing beside the controls. He raised a hand – ending in tentacles instead of fingers – and muttered a curse. A stream of lightning bounced between the blades and arced towards Pelinal, who barely managed to raise his shield in time to deflect the spell. Growling, he charged forward, heedless of the heavy pendulums, which missed him completely as he swiftly he ran between them. The apprentice's solid black eyes widened with horror as Pelinal rapidly closed the distance, and he wisely chose to stop casting and flee instead. Pelinal allowed him to retreat when he reached the other side, pausing to turn off the blades, before nodding to the others, silently ordering them to follow him.

The group charged up two more flights of stairs, and as they rounded the corner, more monstrous humans clawed at them, screeching and bellowing with rage and terror. Pelinal planted his feet in the doorway and swung his mace around, catching a snake-faced humanoid in the side of the head. Telepe crouched beside Pelinal, ducking under his mace, and he jabbed the point of his sword into the ribs of a human with hundreds of tiny horns protruding from his skin. The monster hissed and fell to the ground, clutching its chest, though Telepe noticed that there was no flash of light indicating that his blade's fear spell had discharged – apparently, he had expended its uses and would need to wait for it to recharge. Despite that, he thrusted his sword around Pelinal's shield again, the tip piercing the stomach of a bloated human with decaying, grayish skin.

Dynar slashed around the other side of Pelinal, his curved, bronze blade slicing neatly through the arm of a black-furred human, who let out a roar of fury. This gave Pelinal the opportunity he needed to push the creature back and smash his mace into its head, before pressing on, with the others on his heels.

The group dashed down the hallway, passing by the alcoves of scrolls as they did. Telepe wished they had time to stop and gather as many of the scrolls as they could, since the knowledge contained in them was no doubt invaluable. Even so, he wasn't foolish enough to actually voice that suggestion, especially with his own desire to escape the nightmarish sanctum urging him on, despite his increasing fatigue. Two more elves peeked out at the fleeing group, raising their hands to cast spells at their retreating backs. Farilel, noticing them, skidded to a halt and again conjured a magical shield as the students unleashed a fireball and an ice spike at the same time. The spells simultaneously struck the elven woman, knocking her to the ground, where she lay unmoving. Tari abruptly stopped, staring wide-eyed down at her mentor, and then she glared back up at the two apprentices and raised her hands.

"Molag!" she shouted, and a burst of fire washed over them, igniting their robes before they had a chance to react. Their screams filled the air as Dynar hurried forward and gathered the elf's prone body into his arms. He carried her quickly down the stairs as Telepe grabbed Tari's arm, pulling her along after them. She hissed and released the spell, then turned to resume running, though her face was still contorted with fury.

After descending one more staircase, the group stumbled up a final flight of stairs as Pelinal shoved open the heavy doors of Ninendava's sanctum. The guards standing at the entrance stared at them in confusion as they pushed past, sprinting through the open gates, and only coming to a halt when they were several yards away from the entrance. One of the guards hesitantly lowered his spear, glancing over his shoulder at the entrance to the citadel.

"What… happened?" the guard asked slowly.

Pelinal exhaled to collect his breath, and before Telepe could formulate a story, he stated simply, "The king lies dead. Do you wish to challenge us next?" he added, raising his mace. Telepe's eyes widened in alarm, but as he hurried forward to try to explain, the guard's face broke out into a wide, joyful grin.

"Oh, thank all the divines and daedra alike!" he exclaimed. Telepe stumbled mid-stride at the guard's unexpected reaction, staring at the elf with a stunned expression. "At last, we no longer need fear what horrors might emerge from that cursed hole!" The other guards were likewise crowing and grinning to each other, leaving Telepe and his companions baffled.

"So… you're pleased?" Telepe asked unsurely.

"Of course! We've lived in terror under the Shaper's rule for years," the guard explained as he walked over to the entrance to the city and withdrew a heavy silver key. "At a whim, he would summon man and elf alike, demanding their servitude in his halls. The elves he would make into his 'apprentices,' teaching them dark magics that would twist and taint them, and the slaves he would reshape into horrific, diseased monsters, merely so that he could discover the limits of alteration. We've guarded the entrance as much to keep anything from escaping as to keep intruders from entering. Now, if what you claim is true, our nightmare is finally at an end."

The guard slid his key into a hole in the center of the marble doors and turned it. A loud grinding rumbled from inside the keep, and when it stopped, the guard put the key away and heaved a deep sigh. "At last," he said, almost seeming on the verge of weeping with joy. "Though… admittedly, now I'm uncertain what to do," he added, his smile fading slightly. "Though Gordhaur terrified us, his power protected us, even as it also prevented us from rebelling against his madness. Once word spreads that he's been slain, other kingdoms shall wish to exact vengeance upon us for his atrocities, or simply sack us for our treasures, and we can no longer retreat into his sanctum for protection."

Telepe quickly stepped forward, folding his hands behind his back. "Tell me, did any of you aid Gordhaur in his experiments?" he asked slowly.

The elf quickly shook his head, his eyes widening slightly with horror and indignation at the suggestion. "Never," he stated firmly. "We all wished to resist, but to resist King Gordhaur was to die. We've all lived in fear every day of our lives, and no one above ground would dare willingly participate in his mad experiments."

"I see," Telepe nodded, smiling warmly. "If so, why not consider joining us in Sancre Tor? The city is underpopulated at the moment, and we could use skilled guards and laborers. You'd have no more enemies in Sancre Tor than you would here, and you'd enjoy far greater protection. Though you'd need to abide by the abolition of slavery."

A relieved smile spread across the guard's lips. "Is that so? Well… man and mer alike have suffered greatly under Gordhaur's tyranny. None of us would object to universal freedom, as we've all essentially been slaves to our king's whims. We shall happily join you in your rebellion."

"I'm pleased to hear that, though it's not my decision to make," Telepe admitted. "Nevertheless, if you would accompany us back to the city, I shall speak with the centurion commanding the garrison. I'm certain he shall arrange for you to join us."

"You have our gratitude," the captain chuckled, holding his hand out. Telepe nodded and gripped his forearm, then stepped away to rejoin the others as the captain called out to his guards.

As he rejoined the others, his eyes fell on Farilel, lying on the sparse grass with Tari hovering over her, her hand on the Ayleid's forehead. "How is she?" Telepe asked, kneeling down to inspect her.

"She's injured, but she's breathing. It shall take some time for her to recover. It was brave but foolish of her to try to shield us from two spells simultaneously," Tari replied. Then she looked up at Telepe, her eyes flashing with anger. "Though not nearly as foolish as your proposal to Gordhaur! How dare you wager your life like that?!"

Telepe stared at her, holding his hands up. "I had absolute confidence in Whitestrake's chances of victory," he replied slowly.

"You should not gamble with your life so freely!" Tari snapped.

"Every one of us risks our lives for the rebellion every day!" Telepe retorted.

"Yes, and I recognized that you only did so to goad King Gordhaur into a duel, which is why I did not object," Tari replied in a low growl. Then her voice softened. "Nevertheless, if you would not permit me to act so carelessly, please do not do so yourself. I do not care how certain you are of success – the cost of failure would be unbearable for me."

Telepe blinked in surprise, then lowered his gaze as guilt made his stomach turn. "I see. Forgive me," he murmured.

Tari exhaled, then nodded once. "So long as you understand," she muttered, leaning down to rub a handful of herbs over a burn on Farilel's arm.

"What were you speaking with the guard about?" Dynar piped up from where he was standing a few feet away, watching Tari work.

"I was suggesting that they join us in Sancre Tor," Telepe answered honestly, not seeing any reason to hide it, as they would know soon enough anyways.

"Indeed?" Dynar asked slowly. "It may be difficult for the citizens to accept newcomers from a hated city."

"They've been asked to accept far more radical changes lately," Telepe pointed out. "The citizens here appear to have suffered under their king more than anyone else, and they seem to have no issue accepting our laws in exchange for protection. Besides, Sancre Tor could use more laborers."

"I suppose," Dynar said slowly, before shrugging. "In any case, at least we leave here with something, since we failed to learn anything about the wall of light surrounding the White-Gold City."

"Quite," Telepe agreed slowly, folding his arms and looking away. "And in truth, I have no idea where else we might search."

"Well… I have a suggestion," Tari spoke up, looking up from her mentor. "There is one other repository of knowledge that I believe rivals Ninendava."

"Is that so?" Dynar replied, tilting his head up with interest. "And that is?"

"My birthplace," Tari replied grimly. "Ceya-Tar."